For a couple of days, my
Honeymoon Bite will be free. As of this morning, it has soared in 24 hours to the #6 spot for Freebie Amazon in the Fantasy category. Almost in the top 100 overall.
So, if Edward and Bella's story has got you craving for more, take a gander at some adult entertainment. Strictly over 18 stuff, but I'm proud of the redemption through true love, which is the thread throughout all my books.
I loved writing this, my first vampire story. Book 2 is next, after lauch of the Fallen SEAL Legacy.
I know, I know. SEALs and vamps, you say? Well, these are fictionalized stories based on legend, myth and snippets of things I've either read or discussed with other people. Like any good storyteller, I take the things I didn't like from some of the vamp stories, like their plumbing issues (thank you Anne Rice for your great characters, but no thanks on the lack of sex), and their need to sleep in a coffin (love True Blood but it's getting kinda out there, still fun) and need to stay out of the sun--and I fixed those problems. Why? Because I can.
Enjoy!
Excerpt,
Honeymoon Bite:
“Does your husband know about your appetites?”
From behind Anne came a gravelly male voice that sent shivers down her spine.
The screams of the Starbuck’s espresso machine made her wonder if she’d really
heard the voice. But the male scent of him was impossible to miss. The hairs at
her neck stood at attention, telegraphing urgency. The urgent sensation
extended well beyond her waistline. Time stood still before she could bring
herself to turn around and fall under the warm gaze from this tall dark male
that covered her.
Not man. Male.
He held her gaze as she stood,
transfixed, unable to move or to speak. That was the way it felt. Being held.
“I’m sorry?” she blurted out finally.
“Don’t be sorry, my dear. It’s a simple
question.” The ends of his lips curled up at the corners. When he inhaled, his
chest extended, and he appeared several inches taller. Then he exhaled and she
was covered with the same musky scent, incapacitating her, wrapping around her
like a warm shroud. It was familiar.
She heard mournful viola music drip with
slides and rifts that pulled on her heartstrings. She felt dizzy. Did she hear
him murmur a groan? Or maybe it was a small earthquake? Probably an ordinary
person wouldn’t hear or feel it. But she did.
Anne was on alert; this male took
liberties with her feelings.
What
a crazy thought. Ridiculous.
He leaned forward, grazing just the edge
of her forearm with his warm hand. An electric spark pricked her. He leaned
against the counter and looked at the barista, not her. “I’ll pay for the lady’s
drink.”
She noticed the strong pulse at his neck.
Healthy. Smells wonderful.
“And what would you like, sir?” The young barista was pert. Anne didn’t like her
perfect white teeth. That and the fact the girl’s shirt was made for a
ten-year-old, showcasing her pierced bellybutton.
“I have all I need.” The rumbling words
sparked shivers again down Anne’s spine. He said it just next to her ear,
barely touching the small of her back . . . He was facing the barista, but deep
inside Anne knew the words were meant for her ears only.
“You didn’t have to do that.” Anne
suddenly found the urge to speak.
“My pleasure.” He removed his hand and
gave a slight bow.
A
bow? No one had ever
done that before. Anne had just fed. She wasn’t hungry enough to play the game
this afternoon, having gorged herself on a salesman who liked to eat garlic
fries. His blood was thick with fat globules she could almost see as well as
taste. But it went down smooth.
So maybe she would play along. This
stranger might be a good candidate for a snack tomorrow. She had never fed
twice in one day. She wondered what being too full would feel like in her
current state. It would probably make her horny. Well then, maybe she should
reconsider. She should do a wet feeding. That way she wouldn’t have to be too
careful, could gorge herself on him. He’d be wonderful to look at in the
shower, and his hands might do something unexpected to her. Something memorable
in a string of unmemorable feedings.
His hand gently touched the small of her
back again, and she allowed herself to be ushered to a corner table, flanked by
two purple velvet overstuffed chairs. They sat, facing at right angles to each
other. The counter girl called out Anne’s drink. He was up and walking over to
pick it up for her before she had a chance to react.
She watched him cross the coffeehouse
like a thirsty traveler eyeing a pitcher of water. He was probably six foot
six. His dark hair was pulled back in a short ponytail. His black leather bomber
jacket showed his nice ass and those long lanky legs that went all the way to
Heaven. Even for his size, he appeared graceful. Unassuming. Confident. And the
nicest looking male from behind that she had ever seen.
And then he turned, holding the little white
paper cup with two fingers, the other ones splayed out, large as antlers. She
could see how long his fingers were, how substantial. She envisioned what those
hands could do to her. But as sexy as he was, he also made her mouth water to
feed.
His prominent jaw line sported blue-black
stubble. His strong pulse would be no problem at all, but she would have to
bite a little harder to crack the skin. Maybe he would let her take him slowly.
Then she could kiss other parts of him in between while his heart pumped more
of the blood she craved. His lips were bright red and full. She would enjoy
sucking them, licking them. Perhaps biting them.
His eyes found their way to hers, and
when she met his gaze, she became self-conscious of her thoughts, as if she
knew somehow he could read her mind. Anne told herself it was her craving for
blood that caused the almost sexual attraction for this male. After she fed,
surely she wouldn’t feel this way, she thought.
He delicately deposited the white cup
delicately in her hands. One finger touched and almost seemed to rub against
hers. She thought she was imagining the touch, of course. Between her legs, a
warm pool had formed. It was a curious place to feel hunger, a hunger of
another kind. She blushed at her erotic thoughts.
“You like cappuccino?” He seemed
intrigued by the idea.
“Yes. I need the caffeine in the
afternoon.”
“And here I thought your cheeks were
flushed and ripe from a good meal.” Those black eyes peered right to her soul. Almost
as an afterthought, he smiled, and the dark became brown, ringed with a coppery
color that drew her in.
I’ll
play your game.
“Yes. After a big meal, I get tired
sometimes.”
He nodded. “I remember that.”
Anne looked out the window. This was
beginning to feel dangerous. She grabbed her drink and stood. He stopped her by
placing one hand on her wrist. His action was soft, but deliberate. This male won’t be denied.
“Please, sit just a little longer. Then I’ll
let you go home to your husband.”
“Go? You’ll let me go? What kind of talk
is that? I think . . .” She began to rise again, but his firm grip on her
forearm stopped her.
“Hear me out just a bit.” He did appear
to be begging. Could it be she saw a flash of pain there? No way.
“How do you know I’m married?” she
snapped out, letting her impatience show.
“You wear a wedding ring.” He fingered her
ring slowly, sensually. She let him touch her, perhaps a bit too long. She was
going to correct his misconception but decided to leave him thinking she was
protected by another man. Safer that way.
But was she looking for safe?
There was an obvious physical attraction
between them. She had not felt this before, not since before she was made.
“Do I know you?” she asked, ignoring the
comment about her marriage.
“No. Ask it another way.” The huskiness
of his voice made her ears buzz, like he was brushing his lips across them,
like they were in bed whispering unmentionable things to each other.
“Do you know me?” Her eyebrows rose at
the ridiculous suggestion.
He very lightly nodded. “Oh, yes. I have
waited a long, long time for you.”
